


Surrender

by Momokai



Series: Ship Clubs [1]
Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: 'Pull My Strings Baby', M/M, NSFW, Prompt word is 'Surrender', Sefikura, Sephiroth silvertongue, Ship Clubs challenge, Smut, Two Shot, cross posted from tumblr, dub-con, puppet!cloud
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 09:41:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6561343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Momokai/pseuds/Momokai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cloud knew it'd been a bad idea to go after Sephiroth on his own. Sephiroth shows him why in ways he really shouldn't enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> @asreoninfusion requested Club ‘Pull My Strings Baby’. The word is ‘Surrender’.
> 
> WARNING this two-shot is NSFW. It contains dubious-consent.

… 

 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

Nothing was going as it should, he’d had a plan damn it! 

“Are you still struggling?” A taunting voice echoed from somewhere behind him. He couldn’t turn to look, he couldn’t make a single muscle move. He was frozen, his body wouldn’t obey.

“Oh but it does.” The voice returned, purring nearly directly in his ear. He would have flinched, but he couldn’t even move his eyes. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, he’d planned everything perfectly, so why wasn’t anything going the way it should!?

“Don’t you see, Cloud?” The words were breathed across the fine hairs on the back of his neck. “What is happening right now, it is what was always going to happen. Sooner,” his neck prickled. “or later.” No, he’d left Tifa and the others behind so they wouldn’t get hurt, he had come after this man to end him by himself. He’d been determined, he’d been ready.

“You were reckless.” Hidden fingers danced along the curve of his spine. “You were foolish.” Those same fingers tugged almost delicately at the straps of his harness. He needed to move, he needed to get free, to fight- “What you need, Cloud,” silver and black crept into the corner of his vision and grew, until none other than Sephiroth himself was standing directly in front of him, close, so close. “Is me.” The man finished in a murmur, and Cloud flinched only in his mind as cool fingertips wrapped in leather brushed along the bottom of his clenched jaw. “All you’ll ever need is me.” The mad man continued, so close now Cloud could make out the fine hairs of his long silver lashes.

“L-g.” Cloud forced out, muscles fighting every letter he tried to utter. Sephiroth tilted his head and eyed him unerringly. “Lt-m-o.” He ground out. 

“Still so stubborn.” Sephiroth said, smirking and stepping aside, and suddenly Cloud could move. He staggered forward and almost went sprawling to the ground at the suddenness of his returned control, and he swung around shakily to keep the silver haired man in his sight. His hands were empty, the Buster sword nowhere in sight. His only consolation was that the General’s hands were empty as well, but he quailed to think how long that would last while he himself remained without a weapon. 

“B-bastard.” The blond hissed, back stepping several paces so there was sufficient space between them, if there even was such a thing. Sephiroth flicked his curtain of silver hair aside, the strands reflecting the light of the dim cavern he’d found himself in, each strand drifting towards his back slowly, as if reluctant to be removed from his sight. Cloud refused to acknowledge the beauty of it. 

“You don’t have to fight, Cloud.” Sephiroth said as he slowly began a wide circle around the blond fighter. “You won’t ever have to do anything you don’t want to.” He continued, and Cloud turned ever so slowly to keep him in his sights, he didn’t want the man to get behind him, not like before when he’d been powerless. “You’d never have to be powerless again.” The voice was breathed right into his ear, and he flinched violently, but Sephiroth was still several paces away, smirking as he circled. Like a vulture. 

“And what, just let you kill thousands of innocent people? I don’t think so!” Cloud spat, clenching his fists at his side. He felt bare, naked without his blade. Sephiroth looked as imposing as ever, even without that seven foot monstrosity he called a sword. 

“Not thousands, Cloud.” The silver haired man denied, and Cloud made the mistake of blinking. The split second was all it took, and Sephiroth was before him again, so close he could feel the mans breath mingling with his own short gasps.

“All of them.” He breathed, otherworldly green eyes alight with promise. Cloud couldn’t move. He was frozen again, but it wasn’t Sephiroth holding sway over the Jenova in his blood, he couldn’t move, he was frozen in terror. 

“Surrender, Cloud.” Sephiroth crooned, his leather clad hands reaching up to grasp his face, cold thumbs sliding across the sweat dampened flesh of his cheek bones. “Surrender to me, and you’ll never have to fight again.” The mad General promised, one hand sliding down the contours of his face to slip down to his throat. It clicked when he swallowed, his throat dry. 

“At what cost?” He forced out. At what cost indeed. He would be made a puppet. Powerless to do anything but obey this man, useful only for his amusement. His friends would fight, and they would all die, along with the rest of the world. He would probably join them in death as soon as Sephiroth grew tired of him. He would do so gladly. Gentle fingers circled around his throat, and Cloud’s terror rocketed upwards. He was trembling, he knew he was, but he couldn’t feel it, he was going numb. 

“Now, isn’t that an interesting question.” Sephiroth purred, and the fingers around his throat suddenly tightened, not enough to stop his air flow, but just enough to make spots dance in his vision. Cloud’s hands finally moved, but only to wrap uselessly around the General’s leather clad wrist, he pulled at the hand around his throat, but it only tightened further in warning. He gasped, breath stuttering past the fingers compressing his trachea. 

“What cost indeed.” Sephiroth crooned as his other hand dropped from Cloud’s cheek to press firmly against his heaving chest. The mans touch had been cold on his face, but it suddenly blazed hot through the material of his uniform. “How about this?” He asked, fingers splayed over the rapid beat of his heart. Cloud tried to formulate an answer to that, an insult or curse probably, but the words wouldn’t leave his mouth, he had barely enough air in his lungs to stay conscious, let alone speak. “Can you feel it, Cloud?” The General continued, leaning down until he could replace his hand with his ear, and Cloud tried to ignore the way the mans freed hand trailed down his side to grasp his hip. “It beats for me, and me alone.” Cloud clenched his teeth and clawed at the hand wrapped around his throat. He did not like where this was going. 

Sephiroth lifted his head from the blonds chest, rising to his full height to tower over the struggling blond. “It wouldn’t be much of a price though, would it?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. “It belongs to me already.” Cloud felt his heart ache almost as if to prove the mans words. It had been true, once. 

Until he’d gone mad and destroyed his life.

“Your heart, your mind, they already belong to me, Cloud.” Sephiroth said as he relaxed his suffocating grip, and Cloud gasped in greedy gulps of unrestricted air, his head almost spinning at the relief. “However,” Cloud forced his breathing to slow as catlike green eyes found his wide blue, the stare suddenly so much more unnerving as dark thoughts swirled behind it. The hand at his hip tightened, almost bruising, before retreating slightly to slide around to his stomach, where it found the hem of his shirt to slither under. The flesh of his stomach jolted as leather clad fingers drifted, feather like over the bare skin, sliding over the ridges of muscle before tracing upwards to play over a nipple. He shuddered violently at the touch, but he couldn’t move. He wanted to, he wanted to punch the bastard in the face, to kick, to claw, to get away, but he was still frozen, hands grasped uselessly at an idle wrist at his throat. 

“I don’t have your body.” The words were damning, like a bolt of Ice right down his spine. “Not yet.” His heart beat loudly in his ears, and for a moment he feared it would burst from his chest. He knew it wouldn’t, his heart wouldn’t leave his body unless Sephiroth himself removed it. 

“Go to Hel.” Cloud hissed, and Sephiroth’s gaze flickered before a frown marred the mans handsome features. 

“If you continue to resist the inevitable, Cloud, you will only suffer!” He spat, silver brows twisted into a glare as his hand tightened around his throat once more, and Cloud forced himself to move. His leg struck out awkwardly, his body half numb, and it caught the General’s hip. He faltered only slightly, his grip tightening so suddenly he felt his neck creak warningly, and then Sephiroth’s other hand snapped out and grabbed his leg, wrapping firmly around his knee, fingers digging in almost painfully. His leg was jerked back towards the General’s hip, until it was forced to wrap around it. He held it there while Cloud choked, air cut off completely in a grip that was almost breaking his neck. That had backfired. Badly. 

“You are mine, Cloud.” Sephiroth stated as he leant in, not loosening his hold until Cloud felt himself grow limp, blackness creeping into the edge of his vision. “Surrender.” Was the last thing he heard before darkness crept in completely, and he knew no more.


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @asreoninfusion requested Club ‘Pull My Strings Baby’. The word is ‘Surrender’.
> 
> WARNING this two-shot is NSFW. It also contains dubious-consent.

Consciousness returned slowly, sluggishly. It was accompanied by a steady pounding behind his eyes, an acute ache in his throat and his lungs burned fiercely. He was lying on something hard and cold, like rock, he felt bare. He pried his eyes open slowly, wincing even at the dull light of a mako spring on the other side of the cavern.

Cavern?

It came back in a jumbled rush, his decision to leave the others behind, fighting Sephiroth, losing the Buster sword, his control taken from him, Sephiroth…

Despite the pounding behind his eyes Cloud jerked upright until he was sitting, legs splayed across the rock before him, arms holding him upright as the world swayed dangerously before his eyes. He dropped his gaze and almost breathed a sigh of relief when he saw his uniform was still where it should be. His harness was missing, however, as were his gloves…and his armor. 

Blue eyes darted up and around, searching. The cavern was empty save for himself and the lone mako spring along the wall, the ceiling glittering dimly with natural materia deposits, the blue and green lights casting a beautifully odd pattern across the stone floor. Sephiroth was nowhere in sight. He needed to leave. Now. 

He climbed to his feet gingerly, his body seemingly reluctant to hold its weight as he stood. He swayed on his feet for a moment as he once again scanned the cavern. He was alone, but he feared to wonder for how much longer. Sephiroth might have already sensed his return to consciousness, he had precious little time to flee. 

His first step was hesitant, almost afraid the General himself would appear out of the ether just to spite him. When the man didn’t descend upon him, Cloud rushed to the only opening in the cavern, a stone hall that led to freedom. It almost seemed to go on forever in his minds eye, out of his reach, but he shook the thought from his mind and forced his shaking legs to carry him, his aching throat smarting with every ragged breath he drew, and his head pounding in time with the wild beat of his heart. 

“It beats only for me.” 

The words invaded his mind, echoing of the past, and Cloud had to check around himself to make sure Sephiroth hadn’t crept up on him to utter them in his ear. He hadn’t. Gritting his teeth, Cloud continued on, eyes peeled for any sign of his sword, or for a threat. He was regretting his reckless decision to go on ahead, to leave his friends behind. They would have been able to help him, might have even been able to prevent Sephiroth ensnaring him so easily. Tifa would have been able to reach him, to break the hold Sephiroth exerted on his body, Aerith could have as well, but she…

He crushed the thought before it could fully form, now was not the time. He would grieve when it was over, when Sephiroth was dead and he was free. 

“You are mine, Cloud.” 

He wasn’t. Like Hel he’d ever belong to that monster. Maybe he could have, once, but not anymore. He was his own man, he was no ones Puppet. 

His steps echoed hollowly through the stone halls of the underground cavern, and Cloud wondered where he’d been taken. The Northern Crater, maybe? Possibly. He didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious, Sephiroth could have brought him anywhere. He shuddered to think what the man could have done to him while he’d been unaware. His clothes were still on, but his armor and gloves were gone. He’d been left even more vulnerable. 

There was a fork in the path ahead, two halls split evenly down the middle by a pillar of crystallized mako. Which way, which way? Cloud grit his teeth as he came upon the split, hesitating. He didn’t know, he could choose at random and walk to freedom, or his doom. He inhaled deeply, ignoring the way his lungs burned and his throat ached, focusing on the air. He turned his head slightly as he breathed in again, scenting the air as well as his enhanced senses would allow. That way. The air smelled cleaner, fresher in that direction. The other way was stilted, the air stale. 

He chose the way with the fresh air, steps growing surer as his trembling subsided bit by bit. He wouldn’t relax until he was well away, and even then he wouldn’t let his guard down. Sephiroth had already proven how in tune he was with Cloud’s body, his mind, he wouldn’t be surprised if the man could find him anywhere. It wasn’t a comforting thought. 

He felt the air move against his face, stirred into motion from the outside world. His stride lengthened, and as he crested a rise in the stone hall, he saw stars. The entrance to the underground caverns was narrow but high, he could see the stars, so clear in the night sky. The wind was gentle but fresh against his face, and inhaled deeply in relief. The air in the caverns had been stale, suffocating with tension. He marched on, ears and eyes sharp. He stepped through the threshold of the entrance, his boot crunching on the loose rocks of the ground.

An arm appeared from the darkness to his right. Black as the night and blending in with the dark so seamlessly even his enhanced eyes hadn’t detected it until it was too late. He noticed, as a hand clamped around his throat once more, that there was no moon. Only the stars provided their miniscule light in the night. 

His back met the stone wall by the caverns entrance, and the stars were blocked from view by a sweeping black curtain that almost seemed to suck them in. Feathers, black as the moonless night rustled faintly in the breeze, an angels wing stretched out to awe, as if to say look at me, admire me. 

He might have, if only for a moment, before he remembered that it was attached to a demon. 

Sephiroth loomed before him, silver hair swaying freely in the breeze and catlike eyes unnaturally bright in the dark. It was so quiet out here, not even insects dared to chirp. 

He expected something along the lines of ‘going somewhere?’ to fall from the demons mouth, but he was instead unnerved by the silence the man projected. He didn’t seem angry at finding Cloud trying to flee, he wasn’t upset at all. It probably wasn’t a good thing. 

Feathers rustled as the large black wing curled downward, and Cloud twitched as surprisingly soft feather tips grazed his cheek. They were warm, was his first thought. Sephiroth’s feathers were soft and warm. He had expected them to be course and ice cold, pretty to the eye but deadly to the touch. 

“Do you fly away now?” Sephiroth suddenly murmured with a sardonic twist to his lips, and Cloud decided there must have been a story there. He wasn’t going to stick around to find out, however. He tried to jerk out of his hold, but just as before, it only tightened. His neck, already aching from its treatment, smarted painfully. He twisted his lips into a semblance of a snarl. Defiant until the end. 

“I don’t want to break you, Cloud.” Sephiroth stated as he relaxed his grip slightly, just enough for the pain to subside. “But if you give me no other choice.” Cloud’s eyes widened as he felt his body shudder, before it stilled completely. His mind struggled against the satin chains that draped around it, constricting slowly, warningly, threatening to snuff him out, leave him powerless, selfless, a mere puppet. 

“Don’t.” He gasped, and instantly the strings retreated, put away in their box. His heart heaved in his chest, the relief of not having his control taken from him again so strong he swayed on his feet even with Sephiroth’s loosened hold on him. 

The wing descended again, brushing along his arm and the side of his face like a caress, the gesture alien and somehow comforting. 

“I won’t.” The promise was breathed right into his ear, and Cloud didn’t have the energy to jerk away. He was raw, so raw. A warm hand settled on his chilled cheek, and it took a moment for his mind to register that it was bare flesh against his face, not leather. His eyes drifted shut of their own accord, and he subconsciously leaned into the touch. This shouldn’t be happening, it was never supposed to go like this. He was supposed to defeat Sephiroth, or die trying. 

The hand retreated from his throat, and his reflexive swallow was loud in the silence. Sephiroth was close, so close he could feel the heat emanating off of his body like a miniature sun. He couldn’t understand it, one moment his touch could be like ice, and the next it almost burned him with its heat. Green eyes, slitted and unnatural blinked slowly at him, so close he could see the pupils contracting in the dim light. A second hand joined its ungloved twin on his other cheek, the gesture almost tender if not for who it was coming from. The grip firmed slightly, lifting, angling his face upwards until pale lips brushed his own. 

“You are mine.” The General repeated, the words spoken directly against his dry lips. He couldn’t move again. His limbs felt numb, his heart felt wrung out as it beat a rapid tune against his ribs. He felt so Gaia damned raw, his emotions pulled taught, his mind and body teetering on collapse, stressed to its limit. “Mine.” Sephiroth breathed, and Cloud still had it in himself to jerk after all when the lips barely brushing his own descended fully and pressed against his firmly, hungrily. 

Bright, glowing green eyes stared unblinkingly into his own as his mouth was thoroughly assaulted, and Cloud felt his hands twitch uselessly at his sides. A tongue, wet and almost burning hot slipped between his unresisting lips to taste him, and Cloud had a thought to bite down before it was swept aside by a long forgotten heat blooming in his blood. 

Fingers caressed the sides of his face as hungry lips devoured his own, before dropping from his cheeks to press against his chest, fingers digging into the material of his uniform before dragging down, over his stomach to slip under the fabric. Goosebumps broke out across his skin as those fingers danced across the bare flesh of his stomach before firming their touch, smoothing out to palm across his body, to his sides, up his ribs, inwards to his sternum, nothing was left untouched. 

The touch was possessive, claiming. 

And it drew a groan from his throat before he even registered what he was doing. Back still pressed against stone, Cloud shuddered as the tongue mapping his mouth moved to prod his own, it, along with the rest of him unmoving. He needed to stop this. It wasn’t a road he could turn back from if he started down it, he knew enough about himself to know that. He needed to fight, even if the urge grew dimmer with each possessive caress from warm hands across his torso. 

The hands retreated from his front and descended to his waist, fingers tracing a feather light line over his V, before slipping to the side to grip his hips, pulling them forward until he was suddenly flush against Sephiroth from the waist up. The hot press of the fallen General’s body against his own sent a shocking thrill down his spine, it set his blood boiling in a way that couldn’t be natural, his skin almost hummed at the contact, blocked as it was by fabric. 

He suddenly wanted that barrier gone. 

His body came alive so suddenly his head swam, and before he even knew what he was doing he’d grabbed onto the leather straps crossing the silver haired mans chest and yanked, pulling him closer, he need him closer, so much closer. Words were a jumbled mess that couldn’t have ever made any sense in his mind, he couldn’t find it in himself to comprehend them while his blood sang and his skin hummed, feeling more alive than he had in so long. The words repeated over and over, but he couldn’t grasp them. Aerith. Avalanche, Jenova, Meteor, Reunion, Reunion! It didn’t make any sense to him anymore. 

His eyes, when had he closed them? Snapped open in shock when he was hoisted up the wall, his legs moving of their own accord to wrap tightly around Sephiroth’s waist. Possessive hands pulled at his uniform, lifting it until it was yanked roughly over his head. Sephiroth’s lips, parted from his own by the motion dove back in to lay claim to his already darkly bruised throat, and to his surprise, the touch didn’t incite the ache, didn’t stir any pain from the abused flesh like it should have. In fact, each sharp nip and slide of a tongue across the darkened flesh soothed the ache, made it easier to breathe. 

With his shirt gone, hot hands made quick work of exploring his bare chest, his stomach, curving around his sides to palm at his lower back, before sliding lower, skirting over the fabric of his pants to palm his flank. Greedy fingers sank into the muscle, holding him flush against the others body as his head swam. Each touch on his bare skin was electrifying, set his nerves on fire, set his mouth to watering. He wanted, needed more. It was paramount, he felt incomplete, he needed more to feel whole. 

He groaned again when Sephiroth ground into him, hips sliding together as their crotches met in delicious friction. The General repeated the motion as he removed his face from the blonds neck, gazing down at him not unlike a predator eying prey, before he pressed insistent lips back onto Cloud’s, and this time he reciprocated, lips parting willingly as their tongues pressed against each other wetly. Cloud heard a rumble not unlike a pleased growl issue from deep in the General’s chest, and groaned himself in reply. 

He yelped however when he was unceremoniously dropped from the mans waist and instead spun around and pressed chest first into the stone wall. The stone was cold and bit into his sensitized flesh, providing an interesting counterpoint to the electric fire Sephiroth’s touch incited. His hands clenched against the stone as a hot body pressed up behind him, hands again gripping his hips to pull him back into Sephiroth, his ass pressed firmly against the mans crotch, where he felt a prominent hardness behind the leather. A moan slipped out before he could stop it, and his skin buzzed like a live wire. He wanted it. He needed it. 

A quick hand slid across his right side before slipped down his stomach, bare fingers sweeping over a blond trail before delving beneath the waistband of his pants, and Cloud bucked as warm fingers gripped him tightly, groaning loudly into the night air. He was hard, Gaia he was so hard, he shouldn’t be enjoying this, but he couldn’t stop, he needed it, had to have it. He needed to be whole. Sephiroth made a sound behind him as Cloud ground backwards, and silver tresses tickled his bare shoulders as the man rested his forehead briefly against the back of his sweat dampened neck. He heard the faint sound of clicking buckles and a sweep of fabric before his pants were unceremoniously yanked down his thighs. Before his mind could catch up, the hand around his cock tightened and stroked at the same time as a finger slid inside of him, and he flinched in reflex even as the pleasure from the hand threatened to overload his senses. It wasn’t completely dry, and Cloud entertained a brief thought of Sephiroth having sucked on his own fingers for a time, before a second digit shoved its way inside. It wasn’t gentle, but it somehow didn’t hurt as much as he might have thought it would. He’d done this before, once or twice a long time ago, but never dry, never like this. 

His heart pounded unsteadily in his chest as he panted against the stone, the rough surface scraping against his nipples almost painfully as the two fingers worked him from the inside. The hand around his length was almost too tight as it stroked in time with the questing fingers, but it still felt unnaturally good. He moaned, eyes sliding shut as he rested his heated forehead against the cool stone, pressing back against Sephiroth’s fingers and then forward into his stroking hand. 

“That’s it.” Sephiroth whispered roughly in his ear, his usually smooth baritone the slightest big ragged as his hot breath fanned against the side of his neck. A third finger joined the other two, and Cloud gasped, the stretch burning, but not hurting. It should be, Gaia he knew it should be but somehow it wasn’t; all he could feel was dizzying pleasure and boiling heat. The words, like a mantra, were still echoing in his mind, but they were losing clarity, becoming distorted, and any hope he may have ever had to decipher their meaning was lost as they trailed through him one last time, like a fading echo. Meteor, Jenova, Reunion, Sephiroth, Tifa, Reunion. 

Sephiroth’s heat was a real thing against his back, the hand working his cock, the fingers mapping out his insides, possessive, claiming. And then it was gone. The fingers inside him disappeared, and he was left gasping at the wall, haze receding slowly as the hand slowed and then stilled along his length, before leaving completely. Nononono he had to keep going. Why was it stopping? 

“Surrender to me, Cloud.” The voice was in his ear, and in his mind. It echoed in his mind even after the breath had faded across his ear, the words drifting through him not unlike satin strings, but even that thought failed to incite his fear now, his body was alive, humming in a way he’d never thought possible. Please he thought, he wanted, he needed. 

“Yes, yes.” Sephiroth purred, grasping his hips almost gently, and then suddenly he was full. So full, and it felt so right, like he’d been missing something he hadn’t even realized he’d lost. Sephiroth’s cock was thick and heavy inside him, almost scorching his insides with its heat, and he realized it should have split him open, made him scream, but all he could do was moan wantonly. He had it, he finally had it, what he wanted, needed. 

“All you’ll ever need is me.” 

And then he moved, and suddenly his blood was on fire once more, his skin humming so loudly he thought he might hear it, there was a buzz in his mind, one that used to be nothing more than static, but it grew to almost deafening heights with each thrust of the length inside him, reaching deep, deeper with every motion. He couldn’t hear anything besides that buzz and his own lewd moans, but when Sephiroth groaned behind him the sound pierced through everything else, crystal in its clarity, and it went straight to his drooling cock, left neglected between him and the stone. He honestly doubted it’d need to be touched, the pleasure he was experiencing was unnatural, the reactions pulled from his nerves by the very man buried to the hilt in his body. Sephiroth could play his body like a master musician, and all he even needed to use was his touch. 

“S-Sephiroth.” Cloud gasped, and an approving purr behind him made him buck back onto the mans length. More, he needed more. Sephiroth could read his mind, he’d already proven that, but he proved it once more by gripping his hips firmly and quickening his thrusts, and Cloud rocked on his feet, legs trembling beneath him as he cried out loudly. 

“Mine!” Sephiroth suddenly snarled, slamming the point home with a vicious thrust that had Cloud seeing double. Cloud’s body quaked, on fire and assaulted by foreign pleasure, and he didn’t know if he could take anymore. He wanted more, always more, but he didn’t think he could take it. Even his mind was on fire, buzzing with pleasure that with a start, he realized was being fed to him by Sephiroth himself, his body impaled on the General’s cock and his mind fed an endless loop of the pleasure the man himself was taking from his body. 

And then just like that, the pleasure peaked first in his mind as Sephiroth groaned, long and deep as he thrust once, and then twice before burying himself as deep as his body would allow, coming in hot spurts that sent his own body over the precipice. Cloud didn’t even register the scream that left his throat as his own as he came harder than he ever had in his life, his thighs trembling with the effort of remaining upright as he rode out the seemingly never ending waves of ecstasy, the pulsating cock inside him threatening to push him over again. 

He might have blacked out, he wasn’t sure, everything was a haze as he drifted across the waves, his body pulsing in time with his mind, still riding on that one mind blowing orgasm. He thought, vaguely, that he might be moving, head resting against cold steel and arms once against useless at his sides. He was being carried. The stars of the night sky disappeared from his swimming sight, to be replaced by beautiful greens and blues that played odd patterns for his eyes. A large black shape loomed over him from the side look at me, admire me and he had the thought to reach out and touch, but his body was limp. 

He should be doing something. He thought, there was something he needed to do, someone he needed to talk to, but he couldn’t remember. 

“Your heart, your mind, and now your body. You belong to me completely, Cloud.” Sephiroth crooned, and Cloud swallowed thickly, wondering why the words sounded wrong, when they had to be right. 

“Surrender, Cloud.” He had, hadn’t he? He felt cool lips press against the heated flesh of his hairline.

“Good Puppet.”


End file.
